Rory's Shadow
by Lucas'sgirl
Summary: AU. Obligated to protect family, Rory Gilmore finds herself working with a stealthy, secretive Detective with a hard to resist nativeborn allure. Shrouded in the Detective's cloak of shadow, she knew no danger. But a killer was closing in...on them both.
1. Prologue

Rory's Shadow

**Summary: This story line is based on the similar plot of _Eden's Shadow _by Jenna Ryan. It's an awesome book, I totally recommend. I won't give much away, so you'll have to ready to find out. **

A/N: Just for this story's purpose, Rory's eyes are going to be green because the story won't flow if she doesn't have green eyes. I know they're blue. It's for the story's plot only.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not the plot or the characters, so don't sue.

Prologue:

_Voodoo Child with Carib blood,_

_And eyes of green. This is foreseen:_

_Eldest born to eldest grown,_

_My pain shall bear. Believe. Beware._

_For deeds long past chère child will reap,_

_My vengeance curse, of death-or worse._

The woman's name was Eva Dumont and she wrote the curse in blood. Her blood and that of the man who was her father.

He had left her mother for another woman. He would pay for that betrayal, as would his offspring.

Her shadow, her curse, would fall from generation to generation. Not one of that tainted line would escape her voodoo spell.


	2. Cursed

Chapter 1:

"Mind you don't make it too long, Gilmore. I already gave you an additional inch, any longer and I'll be forced to hack it."

"I'll try to keep it within the provided space." Rory Gilmore promised. "This article is just full of detail and I want to make it come alive."

"As long as it doesn't exceed eight inches." Her editor nodded, re-straightening his tie.

"Eight inches, title and my name and picture included."

"Excellent." Bradley Howard grinned. "I knew I picked the right reporter when I hired you, Gilmore."

"Thanks Brad." He was a decent boss, uptight as most editors were towards printing date, but mostly he was laid-back and friendly. Unlike her previous editors in high school and college who had stressed themselves into coronaries just handing out the article assignments.

Since it was seven o'clock that evening and most of the reporters and journalists had left for home, the newsroom was unusually quiet and peaceful. Only she and Brad remained.

She was just opening her mouth to ask if there was anything else she could do for him when her office door burst open. If she hadn't grown used to living with her college roommate over the years, she might have yelped.

"Rory, you have to…" The woman on the threshold halted. "You're still working? Do you know what time it is?"

"It's 7:35, Louise." Rory closed her notebook. "No, I don't have any extra twenties in my purse."

"I didn't come for money." Mary offered Brad a reflexive smile. "Louise Tamblyn, I'm Rory's sister. I didn't realize that Rory wrote articles this late. Myself, I can't work past six."

Not easily unnerved, Rory gestured to the door. "There's coffee if you want to wait."

"But…" Louise's look of annoyance turn to one of resignation. "But it's important this time, Rory, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

She really wouldn't, Rory thought after going through some last minute details with Brad. Louise liked the French Quarter well enough, but going to a deserted office instead of searching out a freaky party? No way. She must want more than just money.

"Your sister doesn't dress like you, does she, Gilmore? Or look a great deal like you, either. So much blonde hair…" Brad spoke around pen cap wedged between his teeth. "She had great teeth though. Are they all hers?"

"All but one. An ex-boyfriend knocked out her left incisor a year ago."

"A bad relationship?" Brad made a disapproving sound.

"Misdirected racquetball." Rory began to pack her things in her briefcase. "Louise isn't big on sports, or men who play them these days. Okay, no more stalling, I've got to get out of here."

"And miss the fun?" Brad joked.

"I think I'll somehow manage to recover." One last glance over her shoulder and Rory exited the office towards the entrance where Louise waited for her.

"Those two should be using public transportation." Louise commented, gesturing to an elderly couple climbing into a beat-up Buick.

Rory ignored her. "So what's the big news? Did you sell a bunch of pictures and want me to spring for champagne?"

Louise stared after the disappearing Buick. "They're photographs, not pictures, and no, I didn't. God, I hope I don't end up like them one day." Turning her head, she ran her gaze up her sister's figure. "Or you for that matter."

Rory made a quick check of her hair and face in the rearview mirror. "What's wrong with how I look?" Other than maybe a little washed out under bright lights.

Louise shrugged. "Nothing. You're gorgeous. Every man I date says so. But…" Her expression grew mysterious and Rory sighed, recognizing the sign.

"For deeds long past chère child will reap, my vengeance cures of death or worse."

Rory, who had taken a moment to release her hair from a messy ponytail, gave her head a shake and her shoulders a roll. "Why do you love that old rhyme so much? You don't believe in family curses anymore than I do."

"I know, but then it doesn't apply to me, does it? I'm the youngest in our patchwork family." Louise reapplied her make-up in the car mirror. "Let's blow this spooky office building. Something's happened, and you're the only one who can make it right."

Rory eyed her sister dubiously. Louise was known for her exaggeration. Catching onto her sister's suspicion, Louise grabbed her arm.

"I'm not joking, Rory. This is big, or at least it could be, and it doesn't involve you lending me money. It's about Madeline."

Something in Rory's stomach tightened. Louise wouldn't hesitate to plead her own case, but she seldom championed anyone else's. And, she never looked rattled. No matter the circumstance she always carried the air of poise.

"What about Madeline?" She asked. "Is she sick? Hurt? In trouble?"

"The last thing." Loosening her grip, Louise made a disgruntled sound.

"Okay look, our middle sister, who poured over the records of every adoption agency in the city, found you, found me and brought us all together ten years ago, was questioned by two cops. They came to the house tonight. They were asking her questions about a man named Jason Stiles."

"Someone she's dating?" No, that couldn't be right, Rory realized. Madeline didn't date. She waved the question aside before Louise could respond. "Never mind, just tell me who he is."

"You want it straight?"

"Please."

"Jason Stiles is our biological father-as in the unknown X-chromosome that makes up half the link between us."

Stunned, Rory stared at her. "Lisa found our natural father? I thought he was dead."

Louise's red lips curved into a sardonic smile. "He is dead, Rory, deader than Dicken's ghostly doornail. The thing is, he only got that way two nights ago. Jason Stiles was murdered in a plantation cemetery seventeen miles outside of New Orleans. And according to the city's finest, Madeline was quite likely the last person to see him alive."

Dun. Dun. Dun. So, I'm back and with a bang, huh! So what do you think, did I catch your attention? Some of the characters from GG will be subbed for characters in the book, like Louise, Madeline, Chris, Lorelai, Luke, Jason, Miss Patty and so on. I'm only undecided on who our Detective is going to be, our romantic lead. I ruled out Logan, he's too socialite for this role and Dean is just bleh. So it's down to Jess or Tristan. I'm usually a Trory person, but we'll see. Armand has that whole tall dark and handsome thing where Tristan is lacking, but Mariano isn't a French last name, whereas Dugrey can pass for that.

Characters you **will not** see: Dean, Logan (though mentioned), Finn, Kirk, Taylor, Sookie, Jackson, Paris (though mentioned) Doyle, Richard, etc.


	3. Dead Ringers

Chapter 2:

They went to Rory's French Quarter walk-up. It was ten minutes to her office on foot, less than three in Louise's zippy little sports car.

Madeline had given it to her as a gift two years ago-or so Louise had claimed. Rory had a feeling this gift, like so many others had been bestowed out of guilt rather than generosity.

Not that Madeline wasn't generous she loved to give. She donated to several charities that Rory knew of and spent hours every week trying to entice Rory to move in with her and Louise. She would buy them a three-story house in the Garden District, large enough so that they could all have private suites.

"I can afford it." She told Rory only last month. "You know I hit the adoption jackpot, and now that my mother and father are both gone, their money's just sitting there, waiting to be spent."

"But not on us." Rory had countered. "Take a Mediterranean cruise, Maddy. Meet men, flirt, dance, do something that doesn't involve dirt, fertilizer and root rot."

"I love my garden, and I don't know how to flirt." She started to take Rory's hand, but stopped herself as she invariably did. "I inherited a lot of money, Rory, more than Louise knows about or could ever finagle out of me."

"Invest it then and I don't mean in a bigger house."

"You don't want to move, do you?"

"Not really, I like my place."

"It's very nice, but it's so small. You can spread out or grow bushes or even many herbs. I know you're used to tiny spaces because of where you lived in San Francisco…"

Which had nothing to do with anything as far as Rory was concerned. Amused, she replied. "I grew up in suburbia, Maddy, not the backwoods. My parents left their hippie groove before I finished grade school. My mother actually went back to college and got her degree in philosophy."

"And now she's teaching at LSU." Madeline supplied.

"Was." Rory corrected. "She accepted a position at Florida State last fall, remember?"

"She moved away?"

Madeline appeared confused. Her short attention span and recall for details puzzled Rory. Louise called them day trips. Rory wondered if there might not be more to it than that.

She was thinking about Madeline as she unlocked the wrought iron gate at street level and climbed the outer stairs to her apartment. Her sister had actually located their biological father. The why of it aside, she gave her credit for persistence. By all accounts, including that of their natural mother, the man had died years ago.

"It feels like a thousand degrees." Louise complained. She had removed her leather jacket and now wore only a faux-leather halter top with her tight pants and spiky heels. "Maddy could be in trouble up to her big green eyeballs, and…" Her own eyes widened. "Why are your windows closed?"

"Because Amorin would jump out onto the porch. Then she'd dig up the courtyard or get hit by a car." Rory explained, smiling at the thought of her beloved cat. "The ceiling fans are on, but talk to me about Maddy, Louise. What did the police want from her?"

The question had a surly edge, Rory realized. Her experience with the New Orleans force as a whole hadn't been good. With one member in particular it proved disastrous.

But, that was a memory for another time, maybe twenty years from now.

It took three shoves, a kick and two thumps with her fist to open her apartment door. Thunder rumbled on the river and for a moment after she touched the light switch, Rory thought the power was going to fail.

"Just what we need in Hemmingway Central," Louise muttered. "A candlelight vigil." At the look from Rory, she kicked off her shoes. "Yeah I know, cut the chit-chat. What can I say? There's background stuff, I suppose, but we both know whatever went down in that plantation graveyard, Maddy didn't hit Stiles on the head and take off."

Rory tried the second light. It flickered but stayed on. "Is she a suspect?"

Louise fussed with her hair. "She's a person of interest at this point because like I said, she's the last person the cops know of who saw this guy alive. She saw him twice, so it looks a bit more suspicious. What's worse, she doesn't have an alibi for the time of the murder either."

"She met this guy twice?" Rory struggled to digest everything as she turned on her temperamental air conditioner.

"That's what she says. I didn't know about either meeting until the cops showed up tonight. My point is, you know some cops right?"

"Don't start." Rory warned.

Louise tapped impatient fingernails against the countertop. "Forget the past will you? You do know some cops. You could get information."

Rory could be stubborn too. "Louise, the only cops I knew have either quit or been reassigned."

"What about that prosecution lawyer you dated last year?"

"You want me to ask him to spy for us?"

"If necessary, yes. Look, I don't think you're clueing in here. This little scenario has the potential to go very bad, very fast."

"Do the police have a murder weapon?" Rory sighed, not liking this predicament one bit.

Louise shrugged. "I get the impression no. I think the sticking point is that several people at the restaurant where they ate heard Jason laughing-and not in a nice way. That's why Maddy got upset and took off. You know how lame she is at hiding her feelings."

"What did Jason do, professionally?"

"Businessman, big time. Made millions off insurance."

Rory leaned on the kitchen counter and stroked her white cat. "Powerful people tend to cultivate enemies." She mused.

Louise snorted. "Oh hell, I hear a cell. Is it mine or yours?" She reached for her bag and began to dig through it.

"Must be yours. My ring tone doesn't sound like a bad disco."

"It's Beethoven." Louise dug the phone out of her shoulder bag. "What is it? I'm busy."

If she hadn't seen it happen, Rory wouldn't have believed it was possible. In the span of five seconds, the blood had drained from Louise's face. Leaving her pasty white and gaping.

She hissed into the phone. "You can't be serious! When? Are you sure?" She rubbed a large circle into her temple. "Okay, let me think. Let me think." Her eyes open and slowly slid to Rory's face. "A lineup." She murmured. The fingers that had been rubbing the circle pointed to Rory. "Hey-yeah, it could work. It really could…what? Oh sure, I know the precinct. Thanks Dev., no just lock up and go home."

"Who was…" But Louise had already ended the call and began dragging Rory into her bedroom.

"Are you crazy?" Rory jerked her arm free. "Who was that?"

"The neighbors. The cops came again. Madeline's been taken in for further questioning." Louise eyed her sister, waiting for her signal to continue.

"Go on, I know there's worse to come."

"They have a witness."

"Someone saw Madeline murder Jason Stiles?"

"Apparently."

"That's ridiculous."

"No, that's New Orleans." Louise's eyes glittered. "You know the justice system, Rory. All it takes is one bad cop and you're screwed. He wants Maddy guilty, then bam, she's guilty."

"It's hardly that simple, Louise." Rory didn't want to go there in any case. "What's your point?"

"Look at you, Rory. Look at your face, look at your hair, dark, thick, long. Green green eyes. Gorgeous features."

Rory saw it coming, she might be a step behind, but it was only a baby step. "You and Madeline are ringers."

Rory resisted. "Louise, we're not…"

"To a stranger, you are." She caught Rory's glare and shrugged. "Well, you're close enough. Or at least you will be once I fix up your hair and you change into jeans and a pink t-shirt."

"Louise…" Rory began.

"Look, Madeline's our sister, you have to do this. And we both know whoever this witness is he or she is lying. Madeline doesn't even swat flies. She wouldn't hit a man on the head and kill him." Louise argued.

"Ugh…" Rory whined.

"Please, don't tell me you have an alibi for Sunday night."

"I don't need one."

"Stop being difficult. What did you do on Sunday?"

"I had dinner with Dolores at her place." Rory relented, knowing she would in the end.

Dolores Boyer was their natural grandmother and the only family member Madeline, Louise and Rory all got along with. She made her home north of New Orleans in the bayou and only came to the city when she absolutely had to.

"That's perfect." Louise arranged Rory's hair into a messy bun like Maddy always wore. "She'll go along with you once she finds out what's at stake. You were alone right?"

"Yes." Rory peered up at her sister. "Look, Louise…"

"There's no look. Our neighbor specifically said the word lineup. You have to be in it."

And no matter how much Rory protested or fought with Louise on this. Guilt and a sense of obligation meant that she would be. She'd call in the favor and end up in the lineup.

For some reason, Louise's words from earlier came back to taunt her. "For deeds long past chère child will reap, my vengeance curse of death-or worse."

For the first time since she heard in ten years ago, the malice behind it made Rory shiver.

All right, we're grooving now. This fic is gonna rock, I can feel it. So leave me a review and tell me what you think. The next chapter we meet our leading man. And you'll find out whom I chose.


	4. Man of Mystery

Chapter 3:

Tristan Dugrey stood in the shadows on the glass side of the two-way mirror and regarded the assortment of women behind it.

Without looking away from it, he spoke to the officer who'd just entered, a veteran cop with a gimpy leg and a ratty clipboard. "What's the woman's last name, Luke?"

"Mayne, Madeline. She's twenty-eight. Owns two big garden supply shops and a catering company in the city. You know the family?"

"I've heard of them. She inherited well."

"Every dime of the old family money. She was the sole heir, adopted at twenty-two months. She has two blood sisters, but no siblings in the legal sense."

"The three were split up?"

"At a young age. Don't know the story there." Luke flipped through the wad of papers on his clipboard. "I do know the other two weren't as lucky money wise. The youngest crapped out totally. Her old man lost his job and turned to alcohol. Her mother died when she was just ten."

Tristan's gaze settled on the most striking of the women behind the glass. She wore a snug fitting pink t-shirt that ended just above the waistband of her equally snug jeans.

Luke followed Tristan's gaze. "That's Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, goes by Rory, one of the sisters. She's older than the suspect by a year."

Tristan half smiled. "I met her ex once. Remember Logan Huntzberger?"

"His ex-wife, no shit?" Luke looked surprised for a moment before going back into his usual monosyllabic manner. "Then you'll know she's not a fan of cops or cop stations. Called in a favor and got herself into the lineup. I've seen the pair of them close up, there's a strong resemblance."

"That should confuse your witness nicely."

"You don't have to sound so amused." Luke barked. "I'm stuck with the paperwork on this one, and trust me, between Stiles and his holdings, a tardy witness, no murder weapon and a doppelganger tossed into the mix, I'll be filling out reports for the next six months."

Tristan kept his eyes on Rory. "You think Madeline Mayne hit him?"

"Personally, no. Poison's a woman's weapon."

Tristan's lips curved. "Some would call that a sexist remark."

"I'm forty-two and deskbound. I'm entitled. I told you, I've seen the woman. In my jaundiced opinion, she wouldn't have bludgeoned the guy."

"Maybe she has a Jekyll and Hyde personality."

"Not from what I saw. A little off in space, maybe, but hey, she's rich."

Tristan couldn't resist a grin. "You need to get out more."

"What I need is for Caesar to get his butt in gear. He's handling the witness. Name's Christopher Hayden. He looks like a musician."

"Credible?"

"On the surface. Says he freaked when he saw Stiles get hit. Did I mention they were business partners?"

"Stiles and the witness?" Tristan regarded Rory through half-lidded eyes while he rolled that tidbit over. "What's Hayden's story?"

"Panicked when he saw Stiles get hit. Went home and hid for two days."

"Didn't want to get involved?"

"Something like that. Said upfront there was no love lost for his late partner."

Tristan glanced sideways. "So if the surviving partner had no love for the dead one, where do you read the words _credible witness_?"

"We have no priors on the guy, in fact, no charges of any kind. Three parking and two speeding tickets in the past fifteen years all paid in full. He has an ex and a kid, a daughter. No problem there. He's on the books for child support, and there haven't been any gripes from his former wife, so he must be coming through. He has a Condo in the warehouse district and he went to Tulane."

"Your alma mater."

Luke's expression grew pensive. "I wanted to be pro running back in those days."

Tristan ran his eyes over Rory's legs. He'd bet a month's pay they were the longest in the room. "There's no security in pro sports, Luke. You're better off here."

"Uh huh and while we're on the subject, you're here tonight because…?"

"Why else? I missed your smiling face."

Luke snorted. "I haven't smiled since that bullet shattered my knee cap three years ago. You got nothing better to do, go hunt up Caesar and tell him to get in here with that witness."

She didn't paint her fingernails, Tristan noted. And he could see the green of her eyes from here. "You need to slow down, Luke, lay back." He smiled. "Take a vacation."

"Love to. You wanna do my job while I'm gone?"

"Sorry, already booked."

"That's what they all say." His head came up. "Is that Caesar's voice?" He paused on his way out. "You gonna leer at Madeline Mayne's sister all night or check out that waterfront hotel you mentioned earlier…Is that you, Caesar?" He raised his voice before Tristan could answer. "We're in 5C." He called. "Later Blondie."

Tristan nodded. Rory had a look of alertness about her that he found intriguing. She wouldn't miss a trick-which would make her extremely difficult to deceive.

A smile curved his lips even as his eyes lingered on Rory's face. He pushed off from the wall. He had his work cut out for him.

Okay, so I chose Tristan, like most of you wanted. For those of you who haven't read my stories before, I have one stipulation. I don't update unless I get reviews. So this will be the only update I make without reviews for the future. I'm not trying to sound like a bitch, but I want to know what you ppl think and if this story is worth continuing because if it's not, I'll stop now.


	5. Man of the Shadows

Chapter 4:

It took the better part of three hours to straighten things out, if you could call them straightened. Rory's neck and shoulder muscles felt knotted, and she could still hear one of the women in the lineup crunching hard candy.

Madeline had been dazed throughout the whole ordeal. She still was. Rory watched her through a glass room divider from her seat in the corridor. She was talking to a bald police officer with shiny brown pants and a paunch.

At least it was quiet here, she thought. And on the murky side of dark.

Resting her head against the wall, she closed her eyes. They hadn't seen the witness or learned his name. All Rory knew was that a man had come forward after a two day delay and announced that he could identify Jason Stiles's murderer.

Rory also knew that thanks to her presence in the lineup he'd been unable to make good on his promise.

"Your sister's a fortunate woman."

The voice came from the shadowy region to her right. When she opened her eyes, she saw a tall, male silhouette lounging against one of the archway frames.

His mouth, she noticed, was quirked in a rather sexy, self-assured smirk. While he appeared relaxed, she heard New Orleans in his voice and recognized the predator behind it. Whether she had met him here or on a California beach, she'd have pegged him as a cop right off.

"Not in the mood to chat?" he asked when she didn't respond.

Because it wasn't in her nature to be rude, she murmured, "Lost in thought, I guess. It's been a long day. I suppose she is fortunate, yes."

Because he lingered in the shadows, she couldn't make out his features. Except his mouth she could see that clearly enough. "You're Rory Gilmore," he said. "And like your sister, you have no alibi for the night Jason Stiles was murdered."

"Exactly. No alibi, no way for your witness to be sure which one of us he thinks he saw, no charges pending against either one of us at this point."

"There will be a thorough investigation, you understand that."

Rory drew her brows together. "We're counting on it, Detective…"

"Dugrey." He obliged. "Tristan."

"Are you involved in this investigation?"

"I'd be crazy to be here at this hour if I weren't, don't you think?"

"Maybe. You look like the night shift kind of person to me."

"Uh huh. Do you believe your sister is innocent?"

The question didn't faze her, but Rory still wished she could see him better. "Absolutely. The only thing Maddy's killed is aphids and not many of those."

"She's a gardener." He smiled at her speculative expression. "It's in the report. She says she was home and working in her garden when the victim was struck. Do you like gardens, Rory?"

"I appreciate them." She glanced at Madeline, saw the strain on her features and gave an inward sigh. "Will this take much longer?"

"I doubt it. You're the oldest, aren't you?"

"I'm twenty-nine." She told him. "Madeline's twenty-eight, Louise is twenty-six. We were raised by three different sets of parents."

"Did you know Jason as children?"

"We never even knew of him. Madeline located our birth mother, Lorelai Chaney, six months before she contacted me. That was ten years ago. Lorelai said she put us up for adoption after her husband died."

"No money to raise you?"

"Among other things. Wasn't this information in that report of yours, Detective Dugrey?"

"Some of it was. You can call me Tristan."

"Thanks, but I prefer Detective."

He shrugged. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming weeks, Rory."

His words almost sent a chill down her spine. But Madeline wasn't guilty and Rory could hold her own with any cop, even one with a slow, sexy smile and she had the fatalistic instinct about the shadowed part of his face-spiky blonde hair and deep blue eyes that were going to make her think things she shouldn't.

"Why do I sense you want to slap me?" He asked in amusement.

"It's been a long day, I'm tired."

"You don't like cops, do you?"

Now finally, he moved out of the deepest shadows and into the light. Damn, she thought with a sigh. He had the face to match his voice and smile. He also had those blue eyes she'd imagined and, for a split second, a glint inside them that made her nerves jitter.

"I was married to a cop once. It didn't work out. You remind me a little of him." Right down to the stubble, she thought and found herself smiling at the irony of the situation. "We divorced three years ago, I'm over it."

"Over the unpleasantness or the man."

"Both. Our split wasn't unpleasant, just…" Disappointing, she reflected. "Strained."

He didn't believe her, but it didn't matter, or at least it shouldn't. Yes, she would see him during the course of the investigation, but she could keep her distance as well as any other woman. Better, since seeing him would remind her again of what she'd been through once and had no desire to go through a second time.

The smile that hovered on his lips suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I met your husband, Rory. Our paths crossed once on a rather involved drug bust." He shrugged. "I used to work in Vice."

Rory stood. "Then you'll understand my reasons for saying goodnight."

Instead of backing off, he moved closer. "You can't avoid me."

She was exhausted, out of her element, and in no mood to play games with him. "I don't have to avoid you, Detective. You're involved with an investigation, which I have no choice but to endure. I don't waste time worrying about things I can't change."

He cocked his head. "What about your sisters? Can they cope as well as you?"

Oh, he was dangerously attractive all right. She glanced through the glass door. "Madeline's stronger than she looks. Louise…" She flicked a hand. "She's not on the books for a crime. She'll be fine."

"She's at Pascoe's as we speak."

Rory recognized the name of the trendy Caribbean lounge. "There you go then." She said. "Louise is coping, as always."

"You call drinking at 1:00 am coping?"

Rory found it interesting that his amusement didn't annoy her. "It's her way, Detective, not mine." She switched gears. "This witness of yours, is he by any chance connected to Jason Stiles?"

Tristan's expression told her nothing, and of course he'd discovered another shadow in which to conceal himself. That the shadow happened to be less than a foot from where Rory stood didn't improve her mood.

"Before the line-up, one of our computer artists put together a composite based on the witness's description of the murderer. That picture could be of you or your sister."

"Which proves…?"

"Nothing on it's own." His lashes lowered. "Tell me, is your sister right handed or left?"

"Right. Why?"

"You signed your name with your left hand tonight?"

"I sign with my left, but I promise, I can just as easily bludgeon someone with my right. You're not very subtle, Detective Dugrey. I take it Jason Stiles was struck by a right handed person?"

He didn't answer. A second later, the door across the hall opened.

Madeline emerged looking edgy and drawn. "Thanks for waiting, Rory." The blackness under her eyes had grown more pronounced. "Lieutenant Owen says we can leave." She rubbed her forehead. "Who were you talking to when I came out?"

Rory glanced back. Somehow, it didn't surprise her to find Tristan had disappeared. "A man, a detective on the case. He asks questions, but doesn't answer many." She regarded Madeline. "Are you all right?"

"I want to get out of here."

Rory check the shadows one last time. "They're so elusive." She said softly.

"What?" Madeline blinked.

Unsure of what to make of the entire bizarre encounter, Rory shook her head. "I'm either incredibly perceptive, or…" she released a weary breath. "I'm headed for a whole lot of trouble."

So Rory and Tristan finally meet. That encounter gave me Goosebumps just writing about it. It was so seductive, I loved it. Well, you know the drill, review for more.

And for those of you confused on Rory's family dynamic. I'd tell you, but it would ruin the story. I'll give you little details, but I can't do much, it'd ruin the story.

Rory Gilmore Adopted as a child, she is a ringer for her natural sister and next in line for the family curse.

Tristan Dugrey A dark and mysterious police detective. He has many secrets to keep.

Madeline Mayne One of the three birth sisters. She discovers her natural father and is then accused of murdering him.

Louise Tamblyn Youngest of the sisters. Her interests are entirely self-centered.

Jason Stiles Biological father to Rory, Madeline and Louise. Did the family curse kill him?

Lorelai Gilmore biological mother to Rory, Madeline and Louise. She has a shady past.

Dolores Boyer Lorelai's mother. She knows more than she should about many things.

Christopher Hayden Jason's business partner. He appeared to gain nothing by Jason's death.

Miss Patty A voodoo queen who believes in curses.

Limping man Is he part of the curse, or merely biding his time?


	6. Uncertainty

Chapter 5:

Tristan watched her go. She was more than he'd anticipated and not like her sister at all.

He had his cell phone out and the number punched. As she left the building with Madeline, he pressed the button to make the call.

"Is it done then?" his grandfather demanded over a static filled line.

"For the moment." Tristan took care not to lose his cover of darkness. Rory owned a sporty, black car, similar to both of her sisters', and she had the sexiest walk of any woman in New Orleans.

"Are you napping, Detective Dugrey?"

"Observing. How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else would call so late? You understand your job?"

Tristan's gaze hardened. "I only need to be told once. Are you sure this is how you want it to be? It's more complicated than you thought."

"There we agree," his grandfather said. "But more complicated doesn't mean we can walk away. You made me a promise, and I mean to hold you to it."

"I'll keep my word." Tristan followed Rory's movements as she disengaged her alarm. "They're leaving now, probably to pick up their other sister."

"You sound displeased. You should be happy."

"Why, because Jason Stiles is dead? I'm supposed to extract justice from death, not applaud it."

"We both know what kind of snake Jason Stiles was while he lived. Now he's gone, and I need your help, family obligation. Don't disappoint me."

"Have I ever?"

"In important ways, no. Just remember what's at stake here, and if you have to, lock your conscience away. It'll only be a burden to you in this case."

This case, Tristan thought, as he disconnected. This skewed and twisted case into which he had plunged with next to no warning.

Like it or not, however, he was in deep and stuck there. Whether that would prove to be good or bad depended entirely on how the victim's murder was viewed.

Meanwhile…

"Stop at Lorelai's Club," Madeline pleaded with Rory. "She's part of our lives. We should tell her what's happening."

"I didn't drink enough if I'm hearing this." From the back, Louise used her knee to poke Madeline's seat. "Although she conveniently forgot to mention it to us, Lorelai was married to Jason Stiles. She knows he's dead. The rest of it has nothing to do with her."

"Why do you hate her so much? Because she runs a nightclub?"

"No, because a nightclub's just a polite name for the business she really runs."

Non-confrontational by nature, Madeline appealed to Rory. "Can you talk to her, please? Oh, and turn left here."

Rory fought this battle with herself back at the police station. "Ten minutes, Louise," she said. "You can wait in the car." Which would be the last thing Louise would do.

Lorelai's club, called Nona, was situated on the fringe of Vieux Carre. The sign over the door didn't flash or shine so it didn't appeal to the masses. That was exactly how Lorelai wanted it. Her other business ventures-and she had more than a few, Rory discovered over the years-did that. Nona was understated and personal. It was also the place where Lorelai could be found six nights out of seven.

"I still haven't figured out how someone as cool as Dolores could have given birth to such a tarantula," Louise muttered. "Too bad the family curse didn't strike Lorelai."

"It couldn't, she wasn't the oldest," Madeline reminded. "Lorelai's brother died from the curse twenty years ago. He drove off a cliff or something."

"Yeah well, Dolores has a few things to answer for if you ask me." Louise folded her arms.

"Like what?"

Rory glanced in the rearview mirror for the fifth time in two minutes and saw Louise roll her eyes. "Like why she never mentioned that Lorelai's ex-husband…"

"Our biological father," Louise inserted.

"Was alive." Rory finished. "Lorelai lied, Maddy, and Dolores went along with her."

But Madeline was always ready to defend other people. "Of course Lorelai lied. You would have to, in her position. You didn't meet Jason. He was…awful."

It was a huge comment coming from Madeline.

Bright headlights in the mirror diverted Rory's attention. She noticed a faint blue tinge around the edges. Was someone following them? Out loud, she asked "Awful how? Was he obnoxious, abrasive, sloppy, rude?"

"He wasn't sloppy." Madeline indicated the curb lane. "There's a parking spot. He was obnoxious and rude, and I didn't like him at all. I'm sure you heard, I met him twice."

Rory wedged her car between two monster SUVs. "Why a second meeting if he was so bad?"

"Because after our first disastrous outing last Wednesday, I figured I must have misjudged him. No one could be that horrible. So I called and asked if we could have dinner somewhere. I wanted to try again."

"But you hadn't misjudged him."

"If I did it was on the generous side." Madeline's shoulders twitched. "I don't want to go into detail. Just believe me when I say he had a mean tongue."

"Ah, so that's why he hooked up with Lorelai. Like seeks out like." Louise made a face as she read the sign above the door. "I hate this place, but at least Mommy Dearest keeps a well-stocked bar. Defend her all you like, Maddy, I still have a bone to pick with…" She stopped, frowned and backtracked. "Wait a minute, he was rich right? Rory, didn't I tell you earlier that Jason Stiles was loaded?"

"You said big-time business man, Lisa said horrible." Rory used her remote to lock the car doors. "I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you."

"He might have left us something in his will." Louise persisted. "You know, a conscience thing."

Madeline shook her head. "Jason didn't have a conscience, Louise. There won't be any guilt money."

"Oh, well, screw him then. Or sue him if the opportunity arises." Louise poked the front door open with her fingertips. "I smell raspberries."

Rory looked up. The rain clouds had moved downriver, but still no stars shone overhead. The air felt heavy, suffocating. Cars rolled past on Canal even this late. She heard a saxophone down the street and the repeated _zot_ of someone's bug zapper.

Everything seemed normal. So why, she wondered, couldn't she shake the image of those blue tinted headlights in her rearview mirror-or the face of a cop who preferred shadow to light?

"Losing it." She decided and followed her sisters inside. "Hey Michel."

"Hello." Lorelai's snippy, French assistant waved an annoyed hand to the rear of the building. "She's in her office if you're looking."

"Bring Bourbon." Louise called over her shoulder.

Michel ignored her and turned to Rory. "Bad day? Please feel free **_not_** to tell me about it."

"Okay day, not great night." She squinted through palm fronds, people and tables to a trio of women on a small raised stage. "Is it blues week?"

"That awful whining they call music indeed gives me the blues. And they have a reggae band booked tomorrow." Michel's permanent scowl seemed to deepen. "Thanks heavens it is winding down now. Tell your chippy sister that Lorelai keeps a good bar stocked upstairs."

Rory grinned. "Louise doesn't really have a chip on her shoulder, Michel. She took a method acting course last year and hasn't realized it's over yet."

Michel glared, but moved on. Rory headed for the stairwell.

Lorelai's preference ran to freeze-dried palms, rattan furniture, and dim lighting. Blues music drifted out of the private rooms, and the air did in fact smell like raspberries.

Because she had done her first filling at seven-thirty that morning, Rory's head felt as fuzzy as the lights. She crossed, she reflected, into that weird realm between consciousness and sleep.

The wall beside her was lined with oil paintings, most of them abstract, and every one as dark and mysterious as Tristan Dugrey.

"Hell." With a sigh, Rory started up.

Sorry about the delay guys. I got wrapped up in school work, but report cards are in, so everything should even out from here. Enjoy and please review.


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